


Apocrypha

by Capsaicin, duelmepharaoh (captain_indigo)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Dubious Consent, Heresy, M/M, Non-Consensual, Religious Content, Sensei showed me his new Ferrari and I stole the car keys, Shameless Smut, Torture, don't read during Sunday service
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 13:59:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13789209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capsaicin/pseuds/Capsaicin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_indigo/pseuds/duelmepharaoh
Summary: "In order that Satan might not outwit us. For we are not unaware of his schemes."Kaiba was sent to exorcise a demon residing in an abandoned church. Little did he know who the demon was, and what awaits him beyond the weathered doors.





	1. Incarnation

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [伪经](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17304602) by [Capsaicin-CN (Capsaicin)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capsaicin/pseuds/Capsaicin-CN)



 

_…in order that Satan might not outwit us. For we are not unaware of his schemes._

_\--2 Corinthians 2:11_

 

††††††

 

His contact with the villagers had been thankfully brief. One of the leaders had pointed him to the church with a shaking hand. God's favour be with you, he had said, and Kaiba had left with a nod and a swirl of his cloak.

He settled the white collar at his throat, a comforting habit in the face of such evil as the demons he was summoned to deal with. The doors were worn smooth by wind and time, but it was clear they had been beautiful once. He could still pick out the vague shapes of wings and scrolls. Bits of stone and broken glass glittered and cracked under his boots as he entered, a hot breeze rushing in from behind him as if he had broken the seal on an ancient tomb. It was waiting for him.

"You are most welcome, man of God. It's been a long time since I had visitors." The demon's red eyes glittered at Kaiba from where he reclined on the altar.

"That's not what I heard. Six people over the past month?"

"If I'm forced to eat them, they don't really count as visitors, do they?"

"Forced?" Kaiba scoffed. "I'm sure."

"I only eat them if they insist on misbehaving." The demon shrugged, twirling his dark, sinuous tail lazily over one hand. Kaiba realized he was following the movement with his eyes, and the demon chuckled at him. "Oh, this will be easier than I thought."

"Hm. Don't be so sure. I've purified a thousand demons like you."

At that, the demon sat up, swinging his delicate legs over the edge of the cracking stone.

"Oh, foolish priest. There are no other demons like me." His voice dropped into a silky purr, and Kaiba felt his heart jump in his chest.

So, a demon of lust. Easy enough.

Kaiba crossed himself, and the demon growled, baring his fangs.

"You're all the same," the priest smirked. "All bark and no bite." He strode forward on impossibly long legs, and had his hands around the demon's throat before he could blink. The demon shrieked, suddenly pinned down on the altar, Kaiba's sanctified gloves biting into his flesh. He clawed and kicked, but it proved futile against the leather bracers hidden under the priest's sleeves. Kaiba laughed, leaning down to face the helpless creature. "So, demon, are you prepared to repent your sins? Tell me your name."

"Yami," The demon spat, still struggling in his grip. Kaiba rolled his eyes.

"Your name is 'darkness'? Nonsense. Before the holy throne of God, tell me your true name!" The demon went limp under his hands, and satisfaction began to bubble up in Kaiba's chest, but then-

"Asmodeus," the demon whispered sweetly, as if to a lover, and the priest's face went white. The demon's hands closed around his wrists, and Kaiba tried desperately to yank away as his gloves began to smoke and blacken. They were more than sufficient for any mere demon, but this was one of the seven dread princes of Hell. Before them, only the holiest of artifacts could save you. Gritting his teeth, Kaiba pulled harder, but the demon's grip was like iron. The last of his gloves burned away, leaving his cold hands pressed against the heated skin of the demon's neck.

For one wonderful moment, nothing more happened, and Kaiba dared to hope that his other talismans had held.

Then with a terrible crack, they began to shatter where they hung from his belt, one after another. With each one, the demon's smile grew along with the heat on Kaiba's palms. He could feel it seeping up into his bones, flushing up his neck, rolling irresistibly down through the pit of his stomach, and- why was the demon naked? Were they always that way? Kaiba shook his head, trying to clear his blurry vision. He couldn't remember. He was painfully aware of his position between the demon's knees, and his grip on the creature’s throat had become more of a caress.

"I told you it would be easy. How long has it been since you took your vows of celibacy? Too long, if I'm able to overcome you this quickly." Yami let go of Kaiba's wrists, and the priest's hands twitched. He knew he should move. This was his chance. His chance to- Kaiba dropped forward onto his elbows at the firm pressure of the demon's hand between his legs. The demon's red mouth was too close, practically begging for Kaiba's tongue. He couldn't give in to this unholy monster. He grit his teeth, reciting holy text in his head, but he could barely string together a few sentences.

"Still resisting? I'm impressed." The demon's hand slid around the back of Kaiba's neck, pulling him closer. "I can see it in your eyes, I can smell your desire. Come, taste me, take me to your heart's content." Yami's other hand picked apart the folds of Kaiba's robe, slipping inside and beginning to stroke him in earnest. With a rough groan, Kaiba dropped his head, devouring the demon's mouth hungrily and biting at his lips. He could feel Yami's arousal hardening against his hip, and he pulled away, leaving blood beading up from the marks of his teeth. The demon's eyes had gone black as pitch, its slim frame quivering atop the altar, and Kaiba forgot why he'd been resisting in the first place.

He yanked Yami's legs up over his shoulders, gripped his hips, and shoved. The demon yelped, but Kaiba was mesmerized, watching as Yami's body swallowed up his length with ease. He looked down at the demon, smirking, daring him, and the priest didn't hold back. He bent Yami practically in half, grabbing his hips and slamming in again. Yami choked, eyes rolling back in his head, and wrapped his legs around the priest's back. "I knew you'd finally see my way- " he began, but could barely manage that before Kaiba was driving the breath out of him with every jolt of hips.

"This will be your penance," Kaiba growled, the words floating up from some dark, unnamed place inside him. The demon writhed underneath him, gasping for air, stroking himself in time to Kaiba's thrusts. The priest pressed his lips to Yami's neck, murmuring the phrases of the ritual against his skin between sharp pulls of his teeth. The demon's body locked up, and he came all over himself with a choked-off whine. "...and return from- " Kaiba's fingers dug into the demon's hips as Yami's body pulsed around him, but he managed to hold on the last few moments he needed. " -whence you came!"

The effect was instantaneous. The demon's body began to dissolve, consumed by a cloud of darkness that spread out under Kaiba's hands. Still limp with pleasure, the demon didn't bother to fight the banishment.

"Don't worry, most virtuous priest. I'll be back for your soul." The demon's ravenous eyes pinned him to the spot, until finally he was gone.

Kaiba shuddered. With fear, he thought firmly. With fear, and nothing else, but he dropped to his knees with a gasp of relief. He stroked himself once, twice, and then he came against the side of the altar, bucking into his hand and imagining it was still the demon crying out underneath him.

 

†††††

 

Asmodeus was gone.

Kaiba could now report to the nearest Church and claim his reward. He would be bestowed with great honour, having defeated a Demon Prince, and brought to the attention of the Archbishop himself. But the perks and prestige of rising through the ranks no longer held the slightest appeal. Neither did the offer of a night’s stay at the village inn, which he rejected with a brusque wave of his hand. He opted instead to embark on his journey straight back to his home Church, stopping only at nightfall to make camp.

The tantalizing fire that seared at his every limb and organ had ebbed, dying into a dull heat pooling in his groin. He was nevertheless glad to be as far away from human dwellings as possible. The cold bite of wind chilled his throbbing head as he tied his horse and collapsed against the trunk of a tree.

Was this the power of a Demon Prince? Never in his life had he felt so weak, so _insignificant_. He hadn’t a doubt that Asmodeus could have crushed him without batting an eye, if he hadn’t decided to play his little game. A game that Kaiba had incidentally won, catching the demon off guard to throw him back to Hell’s confines, but his victory tasted as bland as parchment. It left him shaken, disoriented, and _pining…_ burning with a hunger that no mortal food could satiate...

He pulled himself together, dutifully diverting his thoughts with pitching camp, starting a fire and feeding his horse. Before retiring he set charms around his camp to ward off the fiends that lurk the forests, but a soft taunting voice reminded him there were fiends that even his most confident spells could not repel.

The dreams began that night.

 

††††

 

 _“Why the apprehension, my dear Priest?”_ The demon’s red eyes sparked with an effervescent light, impossibly pliant arms wrapping sensually around Kaiba’s waist, and the cold moisture of the forest floor evaporated from the priest’s back. _“I thought we both enjoyed our previous encounter.”_

The Demon never speaks in his dreams. His sweet words sank right into Kaiba’s head.

 _“I could see what you desire, plain as day. Come, take it.”_ His fingers slipped between Kaiba’s, lifting the priest’s calloused palms to place over his slim hips.

“That’s as much as you will ever see, damned creature,” Kaiba snapped through gritted teeth. He felt the demon’s influence unearthing his every carnal lust – but that was all the demon can do at present. The sprite sent into Kaiba’s dreams cannot see through his thoughts or manipulate his waking conscience.

 _“Oh, but things change, given time,”_ The demon purred, blonde threads falling over his darkening red orbs, and Kaiba felt a thread of panic mingle in the spike of arousal that lanced through his body. “ _Call me Yami… don’t you think addressing me as ‘creature’ is somewhat inappropriate, given the_ intimacy _of our acquaintance?”_

It was no use resisting Yami’s invitations, Kaiba soon realised, for it would simply make his subsequent waking hours a riled up and dysfunctional mess. A painful show of weakness for a holy emissary who spent all his life training to resist such temptations, but Kaiba decided to yield this square to preserve gain for his counteractions.

 _“Since we’re both dissatisfied with status quo, may I make a suggestion?”_ Yami pushed Kaiba against the headboard, and the flame flickered in the oil lamp by his bed. _“Summon me… and we can tie our ends in person.”_

“Desperate to get you out from where you’re grounded, are we?” Kaiba sneered, hiding the fact that the demon’s words coincided perfectly with his own intentions. Crisp chimes of bells rang through the priests’ quarters, announcing the hour of Lauds*, and Yami’s form diminished as Kaiba began to rouse. It was time for him to make his rounds to the church library.

 _“You’re not taking very good care of yourself, my good Priest,”_ Yami leaned on a carved mahogany bookcase, his tail slowly sweeping from side to side. Kaiba flipped a page on the book he was reading, but the ancient parchment had already gone blank. _“I’m finding you asleep in a new library every day, toiled from your travels with barely a meal down your stomach.”_

“Should I be startled that a demon is concerned about my wellbeing?” Kaiba carelessly discarded the blank volume, and Yami straightened from his poise. Books poured out from the shelves he was leaning on, turning into a swarm of black swallows. “You can rest assured, since I still have plenty of strength to fuck you into oblivion.” He slammed the demon into the disintegrating bookcase, grabbing a fistful of the full asscheeks and lifting them over his thighs.

 _“Aye…”_ The demon threw back his head in an exquisite moan as Kaiba drove inside him in a swift and reckless thrust, _“I am indeed only concerned that you have less time to spend with me, with the meagre sleep you are getting.”_

“Then you may rejoice, because we’ll be seeing each other soon,” Kaiba threw Yami down on the cracked wooden counter, scattering the arcane trinkets and loose parchment strewn all over its dusty surface. The last piece to his puzzle was found in this sealed basement under the burnt remains of a house. The Church had seized its previous occupants for heresy, but the cellar well hidden under a false fireplace had miraculously escaped the raid. “What do you say we reconcile at the place where it all began?”

Kaiba closed his fingers around Yami’s slender throat, and shivered as the demon’s insides clenched tightly around him. His lips drew back in a snarl as sinful thrills crashed into his head. He was on his brink; another day and he would collapse under physical deprivation if he didn’t fall first to the demon’s increasingly aggressive assaults. But he had beat him to the finish. He can almost taste his victory in the sweet spasms of the demon’s convulsing vessel.

Yami’s head snapped to one side, exposing a pale expanse of neck, thin brows tangling in a pained knot as he bit down on his lower lip. He looked exactly the way he did when Kaiba took him for the first time, too deeply ensnared in throes of pleasure to care about his imminent defeat. The same immorally beautiful face that sent Kaiba’s rational mind bursting in flames. This time, Kaiba came at the sight.

 

†††

 

Yami paced a slow circle around the glowing diagram into which he had been summoned. Blue and red traced over the ground, trapping him within its intricate lines.

“It's certainly good to see you again. May I call you something other than ‘priest’ this time?”

“As if I would give my name to a filthy demon,” Kaiba scoffed. To all appearances he was perfectly calm, but the fine hairs on his neck stood on end as he prepared the secondary incantations.

“Filthy?” Yami gasped. “You wound me.” When Kaiba didn't look up from the crackling tome in his hands, the demon resumed his pacing. “It takes one to know one. I never knew a holy man could hold such sinful desires in his heart.”

“I'm not a fool. You planted those dreams in my head to tempt me.”

“I did, of course. You're a delightful victim, so… sensitive. And I may have given you a little nudge, but the subject of your dreams came straight from the depths of your need.” Kaiba’s lips thinned, and he turned a page, making final adjustments to the edges of his magical circles. “Most men of your ilk are so dull,” Yami continued. “They desire simple things. My body bent over, my submission.” The demon’s lip curled. “But you, my good priest… you want to purge me through pain till my blood runs clean, to cut out the black of my eyes and spread your pleasure over their ruin.” Kaiba’s hand stilled for the briefest moment on his chalk. “You want my utter defeat, my eyes turned to the light, and only after the greatest struggle.”

“As befits my profession. Demons must be overpowered and cleansed, by whatever means I deem suitable.”

“That may be. But equally powerful are your desires to be defeated. You wish me to profane your mouth until you choke on my unholy essence.” Kaiba breathed out hard through his nose, focused so intently on his work that he didn't notice the demon's eyes go black. “You wish to be tied open underneath me on your altar, to be corrupted by my touch till the last vestiges of your resistance fade behind your screams.” Ignoring a traitorous fire settling between his hips and the chills that raced up his thighs, Kaiba set the last line of his binding spell in place.

The demon surveyed the tightly woven circles laid out around him as the priest straightened himself, setting the spellbook open on the table. “We have quite a full agenda tonight, don’t we?”

“You are correct, so why don’t we get started?” Kaiba heated a small silver ritual knife over a lamp, then rolled up a sleeve to expose his left forearm. His blood would serve as the catalyst to complete the rituals for the night – and bond four different spells together according to his design.

They both watched as blood drizzled from the priest’s wrist and splattered at the edge of the circles where blue and red intersected. Light sprang up from where the fluid touched the ground and spread along the lines like fire on oil-soaked wicks.

“A Summoning Circle, of goat’s blood, to call forth the Demon Prince.” Yami mused as he traced the red lines with the tip of his tail, then yelped in surprise when blazing blue bonds sprang from the circles and trapped his four limbs, pulling him unceremoniously down to the ground.

“A Binding Circle, of blue vitriol, to tie the Demon down.” An edge of Kaiba’s lips tugged up at the sight of Yami struggling against the glowing bonds without much avail, and eventually had a cheek plastered to the floor. Things were coming together smoothly.

“You would not make the mistake of thinking Solomon’s Circle of Restriction would keep me in for long, would you?” Yami tsked in irritation as the spelled binds stung his face, leaving an angry red mark. Kaiba chuckled. “Oh it would be a _disgrace_ to you if I satisfied myself with such a basic arrangement. There is a little more to come, and I believe you would be pleasantly surprised.” As his words fell, a silver pattern sprang to life from where Yami’s cheek was plastered to the stone, and quickly spread over the red and blue lines to form a pentacle.

“… A Pact.” Yami’s eyes widened, the silver spark of mercury dancing off his exotic red pupils. “How come, Priest, it would seem you require my services after all… or from what I would gather from your arrangements, you intend to make me your _pet_?”

Kaiba gave a derisive bark of laughter at the suggestion. “Neither.” He held up his left arm, the bleeding on the wrist already patched with a few circles of bandages. Glowing runes extended from underneath the binds, covering his palm and running all the way up his arm, lighting a manic glint in his blue eyes. “The Spell of Sanctity… a standard spell that emissaries of the Church handling various forms of dark magic would equip to themselves. It was designed to insulate Dark elements from contaminating the user’s magical system. I made a few modifications, and as now it would effectively put our Pact on stilts. Your magic would flow through to me…past me, and be let out of you, quite like blood being let from an open wound. By the time we are stricken with the first rays of sunlight, your magic will be gone.”

“You are bleeding me to death as you observe at a distance.” Yami’s darkened eyes narrowed to slits. “ _How cruel._ ”

Kaiba’s lips thinned into a cold smirk. “As I said, I would use the means I deem suitable to exorcise your kind.”

Yami took a shaky breath, and Kaiba gauged whether his composite ritual was already taking effect. “You are not trying to exorcise me… Your pressing concern is to come clean of the dark desires I brought forth to your eyes. But haven’t I told you those desires come from the depths of your own heart?”

“From whence they come is of little consequence after I am done with you today,” Kaiba laughed. “So what if I hide these _dirty desires_ in my heart? Once I am rid of a certain pesky breaker of locks, I shall simply seal them away never to see the light again.”

“How foolishly obstinate… to torture yourself by denying yourself of pleasures.”

“Don’t you demons thrive upon seducing humans to surrender to their whims? But alas, God has taught us to see this well. Decadent desires pollute the human volition.”

“I see you do detest corporeal pleasures with ardour…” Yami remarked slowly, tail brushing against his side. Now that the rituals were interim complete, the blue bonds had relaxed, and he was able to sit upright. “But I regret to say you must indulge once more in this pleasure that you hate. You are bonding with the Demon Prince of Lust. Intercourse would be necessary to seal our Pact.”

“Then intercourse we shall have!” Kaiba swooped down, the shadow of his tall figure consuming the slight form of the Demon. Yami was forced on his hands and knees. He was dressed, but the scanty leather barely covered anything, and the Priest was free to reach in and palm a handful of his full asscheeks. The Demon shrieked in surprise when the hand dove into the crevice and stuffed something cold and hard into his orifice.

 _“What… was… that…”_ The Demon was breathless, elegant features scrunching up in agony and distraught tears welling up in crimson eyes. He was on fire, the item seeming to burn a hole into his insides.

“A pendant soaked with the blood of St John the Baptist,” Kaiba replied coolly, running his hand down a smooth thigh and feeling the Demon shiver uncontrollably under his touch. He couldn’t resist picking up the Demon’s chin and tasting the tears falling out of the enticing red eyes.

“Even a sacred treasure… would not hold effect with me for long…” Yami hissed, trying to adjust his body to accommodate the searing pain in his backside.

“It would keep you out of mischief while I have my way with you.” Kaiba undid his belt and tugged Yami up by his strangely multicolored hair, forcing him to a kneel. He roughly pried open the Demon’s mouth and shoved himself in.

Yami’s surprised scream reverberated around his hot flesh, sending delicious thrills down Kaiba’s spine as he forced himself all the way in to the back of the Demon’s throat. He half expected Yami to bite him, for which he kept an iron grip on his jaw, but the Demon seemed to have no such intention. After a brief and frantic fit of gagging, the demon even tried to push his tongue around the base of Kaiba’s girth and contract his throat to massage the tip. _The little wench,_ Kaiba cursed amusedly, grabbing Yami’s blond bangs with a force threatening to tear the hair from their roots, and started pumping in and out of the Demon’s hot cavern.

Tears ran freely from Yami’s eyes, now more reddened than ever. Kaiba ejected into his mouth, and he collapsed bonelessly, the Priest’s essence mingled with his saliva drizzling from the corner of his mouth.

Kaiba was surprised to see Yami’s thighs dripping wet with fluid as well. The Demon’s own arousal was leaking with precome, but the clear fluid was gushing sluggishly out of his hole. He dragged the Demon up into his arms to reach between his legs, and his fingers slipped easily past the puckered entrance, finding the pendant and pulling it out by its string. The Demon moaned into Kaiba’s chest, his prone body jumping when the pendant left his anus with a wet pop.

Kaiba found himself staring mesmerised at the mess of glistening fluid strewn across Yami’s pale thighs. The ritual was complete, and he could feel the Demon’s strange magic starting to flow through him. He did not need to touch the Demon any more, but somehow he was reluctant... He wanted to shove himself into that glistening wet hole that was offering him such a tantalising invitation.

“Seto… don’t you want to fuck me.” The Demon’s voice was lazy and rich, hoarse with an edge of pain that simply made it even more seducing.

“Mmh...” Kaiba prickled a little at the Demon addressing him so liberally, then his blood ran cold. “How did you learn my name.”

“We’re bonded, _Seto_ … I can read you like an open book.”

Something was wrong. Very wrong. The modified Spell of Sanctity should have kept the Demon from getting anywhere near his core. It should have built a bridge for Yami’s magic to channel past, but Kaiba felt around and was horrified to discover magical links forming between them like webs of a hundred frenzied spiders, somewhat irregular due to his intervention but still linking them together as surely as Heaven melded with Earth. Something had broken the insulation in the process of the ritual… It was necessary to deposit his media with the Demon to complete their Pact, and that should have been fine, as long as he did not accept any media in exchange… then he remembered himself licking the tears off Yami’s face.

“It’s a pity… you seemed to have such a beautiful plan. I would have been interested in whether I could be extinguished by a mortal’s curse.”

An extensive magical bond would also necessarily mean that access to the Binding Circle he had previously used to keep the Demon down was now shared by the Demon as well.

“It would be unpleasant… you have made me quite unpleasant today. I would have offered myself as a favour in celebration to the completion of our Pact, but with the ways of us Demons, we do take an eye for an eye.” Kaiba snarled as blue tendrils sprang from the enchanted circle, latching onto his wrist, feet, torso, neck, swiftly yanking him and spreading him face-down on the ground. The demon prowled over his body, gently caressing his cheek, then the slender fingers turned into sharp claws and tore a set of bloody gashes over his jaw. “After all the abuse you put me through, I find it appropriate to seek some compensation in you.”

Yami’s claws flipped through a few strands of Kaiba’s brown hair, traced along the back of his neck and teased at the collar of his robes. The heavy black fabric fell into shreds, the same fate applied to the silk shirt underneath, and soon the Priest lay before the Demon with not as much as a thread upon his body.

“This is beautiful.” The demon’s featherlight touches fell between his shoulders, and Kaiba was struck with the most peculiar sense of arousal. Yami’s praise had satisfied him like the taste of the sweetest nectar, and he almost wanted to present himself upon a platter for the demon to enjoy – before he realised the absurdness of the whole thing.

The Spell of Sanctity ran across his upper back and extended well down his right forearm. Yami had turned his claws back to fingers, and Kaiba felt them tracing the runes. He had to clench his teeth together to stifle a moan. The touch dragged down lower, coursing along the dip of his spine, and slipped between the mounds of his backside, finally coaxing out an involuntary shiver.

“You took me without any preparations last time we met in person… and you rather liked to tear me up in the little dreams we shared as well.” Another shiver broke out in Kaiba’s body as Yami thoughtfully kneaded around his entrance. “As much as it sounds attractive to break you down into a bloodied mess… I don’t want to ruin you on your first night.”

The demon’s agile fingers slipped inside him, working patiently to ease the taut rings of muscle. Despite his fierce reluctance, Kaiba found his body falling to obedience under Yami’s hands. For a confused moment he even felt himself becoming wet, and tried to decide with the remaining capability of his disarrayed mind whether this was something the Demon can make him do.

Finally the ministrations ceased, and Kaiba felt Yami shift his body weight around him. His backside was brought high in the air in an erotic display – and he realised there was nothing he could do about it – and the angular tip of the demon’s member came to rest heavily at his entrance.

“This even I impregnate a holy virgin,” Yami mused, and to his satisfaction saw his Priest bristle in humiliation.

It was happening… he was about to be sullied by a demented creature of Hell. A voice at the back of Kaiba’s head suggested he was not so much against being taken as he would think – he may even be glad that the Demon Prince was this devilishly graceful creature instead of some hideous and vulgar fiend – but this voice was banished as swiftly as it came.

Kaiba bit his lip, viciously wringing in denial. “This would also be your final evening of treachery… did you never think I would have a secondary plan?” And he did have one, etched right in between the lines of his first layer of spells. But as far as his nature went, his alternative schemes were always simple and brusque… and self-destructive. He could always rest assured, however, that this second plan would be effective to match his sacrifice.

“Is that so?” The demon did not seem concerned, and Kaiba could not tell whether he was taken seriously. The only thing he was sure of at the moment was the demon’s phallus breaking into the last of his dignity. Yami’s fingers covered Kaiba’s mouth, forcing his lips apart. He tasted the bitter salt from his orifice, as if Yami intended to remind him how he would enjoy every morsel of his own defeat.

 

††

 

“Your self restraint is… impressive, good Priest.” Asmodeus’s sultry voice ghosted at the shell of Kaiba’s ear, every tantalizing syllable seeming to plaster itself onto the skin like the vapour from his hot breath. “Here I am _toiling_ at your body, and you don’t respond with as much as a flinch.”

“Maybe I…don’t feel anything despite your rigorous efforts.”

Kaiba’s eyes shut to hold in reflexive tears as the demon prince drove deep inside him. This rebuke was pathetic, but it may as well be his final attempt. It took all his effort to make the retort come out with his usual tone of sardony…and not accompanied by one of the wantonly moans that had been welling at his throat, threatening escape for the better part of the evening. The last time they made contact, Kaiba had not been fully aware of the demon’s blasphemous gift. But now he saw it plainly, being exposed to its full potency, and he was rightfully mortified to the end of whatever little was left of his consciousness. One touch from this demon was enough to bring even the most resilient holy servant to his knees, one stroke down the spine enough to send him begging for release. And Yami was obviously putting some effort into their current bout, if not full force.

The demon seemed deeply amused by Kaiba’s words, and what confused and disturbed Kaiba was not where the amusement came from, but how vividly he felt it, as if the sentiment emanating from the demon seeped in through his skin and infused with the marrow of his bones.

“Do you always live on the edge like this? Provoking your enemy… even when you are at their mercy.”

Kaiba gave a derisive humph, and had to bite his lip to force back a moan from the shiver that making the simple sound had sent off throughout his oversensitive body. “I don’t see myself under your mercy… when my plans to destroy you have been fulfilled. We have sealed the Pact that linked your magic to mine, and the Spell of Sanctity I placed on myself would drain the dark energy from me at the first ray of morning light…”

“Taking my vitality away with yours. A truly potent strategy, made decisive only by the commitment to mutual destruction.” Yami paused, and Kaiba _felt_ himself being appreciated – the demon seemed to be genuinely regarding him with respect for the manoeuvres he managed to make. “But I regret to remind you you’re still on the losing end of our little deal, for I have full custody of your body until daybreak.”

“And how would that undermine me?” His designs were completed, albeit with flaws, and now all he had to do was close himself off from his present state and endure the demon’s vengeful assaults as he waits for the night to end –

“Why, what a silly question to ask. I could _desecrate_ you.” Yami’s fingers closed on one of Kaiba’s nipples, twisting it with just the right amount of force to make his entire body spasm with consternation. “You would be found with your lifeless body lying over runes for the most sacrilegious ritual known to your faith. Your reputation would be _ruined._ ” The demon’s hand traced along Kaiba’s arm, closing over his fisted right hand that was still clutching the pendant of St John, now profaned with tainted fluids from the demon and himself. He had “borrowed” the sacred artefact at the connivance of the Archbishop, and his absence with the item in tow would certainly have the Church searching for and finding him before his body comes cold. “You would be naked, drenched in my semen, with marks of indulgence covering your skin, declaring you a convert to the Demon Prince of Lust. And what makes you think I would stop there?” The wandering hand slipped down Kaiba’s abdomen, coming to rest on his stomach. “I could decorate your body a little more. How would your people enjoy it if I carved the sign of the Beast over your navel?”

“…No.” Dread chilled his veins as Kaiba reflected on the consequence. His carcass would not only be the ultimate ridicule to his downfall, but also serve as a sign for the resurrection of the Devil himself. Chaos would ensue… and the forces of Hell may as well prevail as the servants of God were seized with fear.

“Maybe you can beg me not to do it.” Yami chuckled at the priest’s mortification. Kaiba almost surrendered to the impulse before realising it was a lost cause – there were so many other ways the demon can leave his message.

It was all over. The battle was lost. Kaiba knew this when he felt his last clear-cut emotion blur and slip away. The angry ambition to tackle and tame an impossible opponent, the grim desire to conquer and slay his own weakness, the cold determination with which he crafted the plans that took his life and soul to stake, but would perform at perfection should he execute it properly – if he had executed it properly – all these avid emotions that had previously filled Kaiba’s mind and propelled him onward had long since dissipated, burning away like the last embers in an abandoned campfire. And now, even his sheer defiance had worn out from the futility of his resistance. His mind was finally emptied, its contents purged, leaving behind only slippery residues of despair. Fresh contents sluggishly brewed in their place, thoughts that seized his numbing senses with terror from their carnal simplicity. The impulse to rip his throat raw with obscene wails of pleasure, to cry out the demon’s name and proclaim him as his newfound faith. The desire to spread himself open further, if at all possible, to welcome the demon’s overwhelming conquest –

“It’s fine to cry.” The demon pressed his lips to Kaiba’s ear, voice gentle as a mother to a troubled child. “I would like to see you cry. Would you cry for me?”

And then he was crying, head hung limp in abandon, tears running down his cheeks like rivers flooding from a storm.

 

†

 

The crisp winter air chilled his lungs as he breathed, bitterly reminding himself he was counting down to his last breaths.

The coarse bindings bit into his wrists, and the dry twigs crunched at his feet. He barely registered the angry swears thrown at him from the crowd.

His fate had been sealed when he woke up on the cold stone floor of the crypt. The very fact that he was alive had declared his defeat – his plans had failed spectacularly, and the demon he wagered his all to capture had fled. The end of the long night only marked the beginning of his nightmares. He had only time to bring himself under composure when he heard footsteps rattling into the deserted church above him.

“Repulsive Witch… t’is the hour to cleanse God’s Gardens of your putrid existence.” A malicious voice dragged him back to the present, and he lifted a brow as the sallow face of his rival in Church swam into view. The Deacon had the Holy Scriptures in one hand and a staff in the other, hovering behind the executioner holding the torch and barely holding his gloat behind a feint of righteous fury. He recalled how the man’s features twisted into a comical mound of shock when he saw his disheveled form among the carnage at the crypt, how fearful glee quickly boiled into overjoy as he ordered his men to haul his limp body from the abbey without the slightest regard to his modesty, already impatient to denounce him to the Church. He recalled the ravishing Demon of Lust calling himself his enemy, and his lips twisted at the irony. _This_ was what his enemy looked like, every hideous detail of man’s desire etched across his face.

He briefly wondered what became of the Demon Prince after his departure. Yami certainly did not leave unscathed, and he had felt the demon’s distress through their residual bond. But he also had not escaped weakened enough to fall into the eager clutches of the Church – and Kaiba could not help but feel a swell of gladness at this outcome.

Cries erupted among the crowd as buckets of oil were emptied onto his pyre. The torch was thrown in, and wild orange flames burst to life. He recited a final prayer, and closed his eyes stinging from the smoke that began to suffocate him.

That was when the miracle befell, as if answering to his devout invocations, but the emissary was no servant of God. Black wings sprung open before him, spreading to reveal the lithe and graceful figure of the Demon Prince. Ornate black leather clad Yami’s body like armour, hugging sculpted limbs and bringing out his breathtaking assets. Sunlight bounced off his strangely coloured hair, enshrouding his blonde fringes in a halo of golden light. He surveyed the crowd with an air of regality, noting the cowering Deacon with distaste.

 _“I have come hither to escort a noble figure,”_ His voice was as rich and melodious as Kaiba remembered, but the sultry timber was gone, replaced by a terrorising tone of authority. _“He who shall be crowned Prince of the Princes of Hell, who shall rule over you lewd and insignificant mortals with might and expedience.”_

He swung around, arms resting on Kaiba’s shoulders, closing their distance, and Kaiba felt the demon’s soft lips lock passionately with his own. Then he felt power unlike he ever beheld surge through his body, enervating his broken limbs and drawing his spirits to elation.

They stood upon the burning pyre, fiendish flames licking at their thighs, but the searing heat and stifling smoke no longer seemed to reach them. Kaiba’s gaze found the dazzling crimson orbs of the demon, and he instantly understood what had just taken place.

“I could kill you here and present your body to please my God,” He whispered, and watched the crimson eyes turn dark.

“This is my gamble,” The demon replied, “That He is no longer housed in your heart.”

Kaiba studied the alluring pair of eyes, and was almost surprised when he saw the unmistakeable genuineness residing in the demon’s favoured devices of deception. Destroying the demon at disadvantage would be a most unbecoming feat; he would expect many other opportunities to settle their score if he wished.

“Your gamble is a win,” He leaned in to recapture the demon’s enticing lips. A sinuous black tail whipped out and slit the ropes binding him to the stake, then slipped deftly between them, and he felt his tattered clothing falling from his hips. Blood rushed to his head as the maddening heat of the demon’s soft insides wrapped blissfully around his arousal.

Yami moaned ecstatically, stretching his beautiful wings as he penetrated himself on Kaiba’s length. “Welcome to your reincarnation,” He kissed the words into Kaiba’s awaiting lips. The fire engulfed them, and their forms exploded in flaming embers, swirling in a black storm that lingered in the air for several ominous seconds before the freezing winter gale swept them away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Lauds: The Dawn Hour of Prayer, 3 a.m.  
> [ →Full cover art here](https://kuriiiiiiiiiii.tumblr.com/post/171248975790/welcome-to-your-reincarnation-he-kissed-the)


	2. Resurrection

_How you have fallen from heaven, O star of the morning, son of the dawn! You have been cut down to the earth, You who have weakened the nations!_

_\--Isaiah 14:12_

 

‡

 

Yami watched the newborn Demon take form before him, falling to his knees in a humbling sentiment that had not visited him for centuries.

Seto’s body was pulsing with light, emanating an all-powerful aura of dominance. Three pairs of wings spread behind him, glowing white feathers dazzling to the eye. He almost looked like a heavenly figure – if it were not for the onyx-black horns that sprouted from his head.

Yami’s lips parted in a silent cry as visions broke free from sealed depths of his mind.

_Those wings... they had been torn off. I saw it with my own eyes._

_They were torn from your back when you were stripped of your holy rank. You had cried in agony, bleeding your lips to bite back wretched pleas for mercy… but you refused to repent, willingly receiving the penalty for not bowing your defiant head._

_You refused to be His device. But alas, you had always been one of His favourites. He cast you from Heavens to have you live through the toils of a mortal, but when your sentence is complete, He would welcome you back to His ranks and restore you with all your glories._

_…If I hadn’t been quicker to snatch you from His side._

Yami broke from his stricken state to realise Seto was peering down at him with curious amusement.

“I thought a Demon Prince like you does not prostrate before anyone… be it Satan or the Lord Himself.”

 “That’s not true…” Yami whispered, “There had always been one –  and only one – who was able to bring me to my knees.”

 

‡‡

 

“Your charge – affronting our Father’s holy authority and defying His command. Your penalty – demotion to the lowest ranks of Heaven.”

Blue eyes glanced up unaffectedly at the sword wielding angel standing before the altar. “That would leave me with one pair of wings, am I correct?”

“...Precisely.”

“Good. I’ll trade them for the wings on the back of that fellow over there...I don’t think he would survive his being pulled off.”

Seto did not look around as he spoke, but it was clear who he was referring to. Yami snapped up in alarm, attempting to struggle against the spears trapping his neck and torso. The angels guarding him pushed the spears down firmly to restrain him.

The cherub with the fiery sword was not amused at all. “What makes you think you are in the position to make a bargain, Lucifer,” He demanded, “much less one to spare the life of a Demon?”

“I’m not asking you, Uriel, my dear brother.” A sardonic smirk pulled across the brown-haired angel’s lips. “What does the old man have to say?”

The cherub paused for a long moment, his face turning absolutely livid as he choked on his response. “Our Father… permits it.”

“Of course,” Seto drawled, looking thoroughly entertained at Uriel’s consternation. “I’ve always been one of Daddy’s favourites.”

“You are a disgrace,” Uriel seethed.

Seto laughed. “Just admit you’ll get off on ripping the smug smile off my face.”

Uriel gave a stiff nod, and two angels came forth to push Seto down by his shoulder, forcing him to kneel. Seto’s eyes pressed shut as a dagger was pressed to his shoulder blade.

Yami’s head went numb as he heard Seto’s scream tear through the nave of the temple.

He was a Demon, and by the ten thousand unnamed souls burning in Hell there wasn’t a tortured cry of the damned and wretched that hadn’t met his ears.

Why, then, would he be so shaken now, by the angel’s painful gasps? Why would it drag bone-chilling dread from the very depths of his being, and fill his chest with this bitter and frighteningly foreign feeling?

Seto must have been taken aback himself, eyes flying open as he started to struggle fitfully, only to be shoved firmly back into position. His severed wing dissolved into a heap of shimmering shards before it touched the ground, not leaving a trace of flesh or bone. But blood burst out of the open wound like a vicious geyser, splattering down his back and spraying red on the pristine feathers of his remaining pinions.

“Nngh-AAAGHH!!” His next strangled cry was much more restrained, although the pain was no less evident. The muscles on his arms were wrung taught as he strained against his bonds. He closed his eyes once more, instinctively arching his spine to ease the tension on his gaping wounds. Yami saw blood trickle down the angel’s chin.

“Penitence is a wisdom God grants to His children,” Uriel said dispassionately, “But you seem incapable of remorse… I suppose you have intellect comparable to Demons.”

Seto did not respond. He barely made more than a grunt as the rest of his wings were torn out one by one, turning his back into a bloody tangle of flesh. But Yami heard another animalistic cry ring through the air, and he realised it was tearing out of his own throat. He must have started struggling anew, for his hands had turned into claws, digging shallow trenches into the marble floor, and he felt the heavenly spears pierce into his flesh.

His vision had turned blood red. Seto wasn’t moving anymore, only slumping forward when the angels released him from their hold. Yami could still hear himself screaming long after, even when he was certain that his tormented throat couldn’t possibly make another sound. The angels disbanded, releasing him from his confines, and he found himself crawling on the cold stone floor, painstakingly dragging his broken limbs to the wingless angel’s side.

 

‡‡‡

 

“You came alone.”

“Why of course, one pair of hands is more than enough to take down a lone Demon without his seventy-two legions at his back. I can see you as plainly as you can see me, so you may spare your attempts to conceal yourself.”

The demon materialised atop the giant pine tree, the eyes on his black feathers ablaze as he spread his wings and lunged towards the angel with his claws. The angel easily deflected his attack, gathering a raw stream of light between his fingers and throwing it at the demon’s torso.

Yami fell through the treetops, choking up blood as broken branches scratched and scathed his wings and back. It was true – he was wounded and wearied, his side still bleeding from where he was shot by a holy arrow. He did not stand a ghost of a chance against one of the highest-ranking angels in the Nine Heavens. With a twist of his wings he diverted his fall just before hitting the ground, shooting back towards open air, and the angel took swiftly after him.

“I heard that captured Demons were forced to repent their sins before His throne,” Yami spat as the angel closed in on his heels, “What a sick thing to do… twisting words of penance out of throats never born to produce them, having them jest like clowns for _divine mercy_ when the only fate they will ever meet is the bloody slaughter named _divine judgement_ …”

“I believe at least some of you are capable of appealing to His heart of forgiveness if you wished,” The angel observed, “But your kind simply disdains to do as such.”

Yami cursed as the angel’s aura cast a crushing pressure on his wings. Holding together with sheer obstinance, he made a sharp turn in the air, baring his teeth in a cold sneer. “You’re right, we respect only power and live true to our desires… we would rather die than surrender to moral binds, but your people weave them into clothes of righteousness to conceal the unsightly parts of your own nature you fear so much to see.”

“Such defiance –” The angel snapped as he grabbed Yami’s ankle, dragging him into his hold, “– is exactly what makes the thrill of bringing you to your knees!”

Yami snarled as he set fire to the arm clutched in the angel’s iron grasp, face contorting in pain as the black flames drew fuel from the marrow of his bones. It scorched the white fabric armour covering the angel’s forearm and melted the flesh underneath, but the angel didn’t flinch nor loosen his grip.

“I hardly despise you… you have been a formidable rival, holding your ground and stealing scores even after the battle had fallen in your crushing disadvantage. I wonder what it would take to break you, have you bend your neck in true submission…”

The demon barely had time to react when his garments were torn open from the back, and the angel parted the clefts of his ass to force his dominance upon him. Yami’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, legs reflexively tangling around the angel’s hips as he was taken deep into the core. They dropped freely from the air, but then the angel’s powerful wingbeats brought them both back alight.

“This is why… you came alone…” Yami gasped, “You’re… not quite … like them.” A wicked smile settled at his lips before the angel’s relentless thrusts drove out his breath.

The angel laughed, biting a kiss on Yami’s throat. “I am also one to live true to my desires.”

 

‡‡‡‡

 

“You are preposterous, Lucifer…” Yami panted breathlessly, wings spreading with some discomfort across the stone tiles of the church roof, his spine being perched right upon the ridge of the gable, “Even Satan doesn’t make love as recklessly as you do.”

“Hnn. You’re saying that like Satan – or any of us – is capable of the sentiment named love,” The angel chuckled, grinding slowly into the demon’s come-slicked hole and drinking in the minute twitches from the spent and sensitised body. “And call me Seto… you know I don’t prefer the divine name bestowed upon me.”

“I recall Seth was the name … of a human… one of Adam’s sons?”

“True, but I’m afraid I’m not half as virtuous as he was.”

“Such words coming from an Archangel,” Yami shook his head with an endearing smile. “Then you should call me Yami.”

“What’s the story behind your name?”

“It’s ‘darkness’, in a certain language…” Yami tilted his head back, gaze fixed on the full moon hanging beyond the cross on the church steeple. The stone angels standing on the flying buttresses did not hold half the grace of the angel before him, his alabaster skin clothed in nothing but the pearly moonlight.

Yami was a creature of darkness, but Seto had turned him to the light.

“We’re copulating here under the stars as if He couldn’t see us…” Yami breathed softly.

“Oh, but He can.” Yami frowned at the cryptic tone to the angel’s words, when the moon behind him suddenly became so large and bright he had to avert his eyes.

_“Unsightly, Lucifer.”_

Uriel’s cold voice rang through the brisk night air, freezing Yami’s blood to the bone. The angel dismounted from his winged steed, flaunted by a choir of malakhim.

Seto rose leisurely to the cherub’s scorn, not showing the slightest concern towards his glaring lack of modesty. “Come now, my holy Brother. What is unsightly about the consummation of two kindred souls?”

Uriel clicked his tongue in sharp irritation. “All I see is the conspiration of two sinners.”

“Not an ounce of humour about you as always, dear brother.” Seto pulled out of Yami, drawing a small whimper from the demon, and his lips curled at Uriel’s scandalised expression. “I believe our Father had approved on my appeal –  with Satan forced into dormancy, the preservation of another power is necessary to maintain some form of order in Hell.”

“I am not here to seize you for covering for this Demon,” Uriel said stiffly. “You disregarded our Father’s strict admonishments to leave him. You have failed your duties as our Father’s eyes and limbs, and broken our code in the most presumptuous fashion.”

“I never considered myself one of our Father’s body parts,” Seto remarked as he got to his feet. “I would rather cast away my wings if that is what we Angels are expected to be.”

The seraph stood calmly as heavenly chains shackled his arms and neck, and Yami was flooded with the cold realisation that the proud angel had meant every one of his words.

 

‡‡‡‡‡

 

Seto opened his eyes, blinking once, twice. His head was resting on a warm and fleshly surface. He registered the fanned vaults hanging from a dizzying height above him – they were still in the temple.

Like all heavenly establishments, light flowed in abundance from between every arch and pillar, not leaving a single shadow behind.

It was suddenly too bright for his eyes.

“Kindly advise me if Hell froze over while I was away,” He said with what was left of his voice, which wasn’t much. “I’m waking up in the arms of a Demon, who had been crying for me.”

_Impossible,_ Yami thought, _Demons cannot produce tears_. _Only blood would come out of their orbits._ He didn’t object, however, but wordlessly laid his palm over Seto’s eyes.

“I must look like an ugly worm,” Seto winced as a dull ache throbbed in his back. His wounds should still be fresh and bleeding, but he couldn’t really feel them anymore, and he could only fathom why. “I guess the Children of Dirt the old man dotes on are flightless as well… I am just about to become one of them.”

“…I’ll find you.”

“Don’t be silly. You’ll be purged of all memories about me the moment you leave the gates of Heaven… and of course, the human Seto would not recognise you either. Our paths part from here.”

“I’ll find you,” Yami insisted. “No matter how long it takes… how many lives it takes.”

“Suit yourself,” Seto sighed. His last strength was draining from his body, and he knew that his vessel was dissipating, turning into the same iridescent shards that became of his wings.

“I’ll find you… and when I do, I won’t let you out of my sight again…” Yami felt Seto’s skin giving way under his fingers. Even the blood smeared all over his lap was starting to disappear, throwing up a cloud of silvery dust.

“When you manage to find me, I’m all yours,” Seto smiled, and Yami felt his heart come to a halt. Seto lifted his hand, but his fingertips barely touched the Demon’s lips before they shattered into bright splinters. Streams of light was also invading his cerulean irises, turning them a silvery gold, and a hint of forlorn flashed behind his pupils as his eyelids fluttered shut. His weight lifted from Yami’s lap, and the golden particles flowing from his back almost completed the illusion that his wings were still intact, but the illusion was quickly broken as his whole torso melted away. Brown strands of hair had turned to gold, and fine golden cracks covered his cheeks. His lips parted, but Yami could not hear his last words before light spilled from the thin crevices on his face, cracking his features like a puzzle that cannot hope to be restored. Only the smile remained at the edge of his lips, as if sealing his secret, before it too dissolved into the storm of glistening ashes.

 And then there was nothing left of him, save for a faint haze of light that lingered in Yami’s arms for moments before fading away.

 

‡‡‡‡‡‡

 

Yami sensed the presence approaching the grounds of the deserted abbey, the eye-shaped rings on his feathers blinking as he gauged the man’s capacities and intentions. He rose from the altar with a yawn, giving his wings a good stretch before letting them dissipate in a burst of black mist.

He was no incubus, thus had no need to “hunt” to survive. With Satan sealed away in a deep sleep, Hell had become wrapped around his little finger, so neither had he an immediate necessity to expand his powers.

He was simply indulging himself, killing time in this shrouded recess upon which the Heavenly Lord had opted to turn a blind eye.

Fiends were wreaking havoc in the nearby village, so the Church had been sending Inquisitors his way, thinking he was their chieftain. Yami wondered why he preferred these holy emissaries to other flavors of flesh – did it give him extra satisfaction to have their self-asserted beliefs melt in his palms?

He had been “entertaining” them, granting them a taste of forbidden bliss, curious to see how far they would fall with the advantage of his compliance. He had no qualms in surrendering himself to their greedy advances – he even suspected he enjoyed the copulations more than they did, the rude thrusts driving into his willing body, the hateful leers uttered harshly at his abiding ears. The thrill of submitting to someone who is not hesitant to maim and abuse him.

But it wasn’t true submission when he held perfect control over the situation. That was likely why he was never satiated by these encounters. They only served to revive a vision of a powerful being far above Yami’s tier… a rival who would make him taste true defeat. He would drag Yami down by his sensitive tail, holding him in an iron grip that he couldn’t hope to escape. Every word of judgement he utters would no longer be farce, but real brands scoring onto Yami’s back. Then he would take him, expropriating every bit of his autonomy, render him powerless to resist any pleasure or pain he decides to give, and finally make him scream in release to mark his subjugation.

Yami didn’t know why he would want such a thing. It was mortal danger in its essence… and he could not think of an individual in Heaven or Hell to whose hands he would want to fall in such a debilitating fashion. But he simply could not stop himself from chasing this shadow of an image in every person who knocked on his doors.

The weathered oak panes were pushed open, and the visitor’s presence expanded in the deserted hall, displacing the cloistered air and scattering puffs of dusty breezes. He stopped at the center of the nave, allowing Yami a chance to survey him.

_Why, what a handsome one we have here._

Tidy wisps of brown hair fell over his brows, casting shadows onto his nose and cheeks. His clear blue eyes were cold and alert, but there was a glint of madness entrenched in its depths that immediately caught Yami’s attention. He was fully covered in his cassocks, but Yami could tell from his stalwart stance that the fabric hid a body well toned from years of stringent physical training. The piney scent of frankincense wrapped around him curiously reminded Yami of Hell’s slumbering master, in a very particular way.

_He smelled like a fallen angel._

Yami drew up from his recline, his interest fully piqued, and his lips parted in a greeting.

"You are most welcome, man of God. It's been a long time since I had visitors."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [→Character designs](https://kuriiiiiiiiiii.tumblr.com/post/171249322205/designs-for-priestdemon-au-p)  
>  Please ~~sin with me~~ leave a review :))))))


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